Waiting: Mahjarrat Drabbles
by lefeyz
Summary: Following the events of While Guthix Sleeps, the remaining Mahjarrat on Gielinor ponder over their fates and futures. If you haven't done the quest and wish to see no spoilers, don't read.


Title: Waiting

Fandom: RuneScape

Rating: PG

Summary: Five drabbles from the POV's of five Mahjarrat, set after While Guthix Sleeps. What went around has come around.

Warnings: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR WHILE GUTHIX SLEEPS!

If you haven't done the quest and don't want to find out about the storyline, hit the back button.

**Zemouregal**

The messenger brought me some interesting news, little one.

Lucien agrees to the terms I proposed for our alliance. In exchange for my aid in his…ambitions, I am to be granted the rights to Misthalin.

You do realise what that means, don't you? I'll take that as yes.

Yes…once Lucien is done with his grand plans, Avarrocka will burn.

And you'll be there. I'll let you watch.

How long have I waited for it anyway? How many centuries?

But as you know, my kind and yours will always have time.

How is it anyway, for you? How do the undead experience the passing of time? Is it as painfully slow as when you were human? Do you still retain that instinctive need to feed daily and to spend every ten hours asleep? Or have you adapted…Have you now understood the loneliness; the horror of living forever? Seeing how time and again empires rise and decline, how gods emerge and die?

Have you resided on earth long enough to see the worthlessness of humanity?

But you and I, we're nothing like them.

We'll always have time and mine will come soon enough.

And when it comes, the destruction of what was your city will no doubt horrify you. That is only logical.

Neither will I judge you for grieving over your former kin. I only hope you'll remember you aren't one of them anymore. You are one of us. And I have always wondered, little one… after the centuries I have owned you, guided you, taught you, -aren't you glad? Aren't you now glad I took you with me?

**Azzanadra**

I recall Sliske remarking once, with hardly more than friendly mischief, that in any game of strategy I could never plan a long sequence of moves, but that I could always see each and every move that could happen _next._

He knew me well.

Now, let us consider the board I have to start from: My Lord is gone, his cities lie in dust. The plane is divided between the followers of the Traitor and those who are his enemies.

In a bipolar situation with two established opponents, a third, considerably weaker party clearly stands no chance.

Consider altering the setting. What if we there was to be an internal division inside one of the two sides? The resulting situation, where one strong faction battles against two smaller opponents - who in turn wage war against one another - would be a lot more favourable for a new participant. For us.

If what Akthanakos has dreamed is true, the Traitor has already been betrayed himself. His successor is still weak, barely immortal. Soon his allies will soon come to see his intention of taking the Traitor's place as their Lord. That is where the division –loyalists against traitors- will happen. That is where we will enter.

**Enakhra**

The time is coming.

My Lord will return to Gielinor and what was so abruptly interrupted will be allowed to run its natural course.

The situation has hardly changed. It is us against the Saradominites on one side and the pitiful remains of Zaros' army on the other. We have every chance to prevail…Given that We consist of a single force, flawlessly united under my Lord.

In other words, the war can not be allowed to commence before the Mourners have finished their work… and before the usurper has been killed.

If my presumptions are right, Lucien will try to repeat on my Lord what He did to Zaros. The staff, the stone, and the final missing piece…someone to draw power from.

They must meet and they must fight. One of them must die and that one must be Lucien.

Idiots and weaklings like Khazard and Zemouregal will readily support whichever would come out on top. Anyone to lead them, anyone to protect them. And they actually are foolish enough to think that Lucien _could_ ever protect them. From Saradomin...and from Zaros.

**Lucien**

I can feel the portal open.

I can feel the presence of Zamorak nearing.

When he returns, what would be his first act but to seek out the artefacts that gave him his godhood?

Won't he make his way north, feeling their unconcealed power, like a guiding beacon?

Won't he be content to discover that his lieutenant has faithfully guarded them for him?

Won't he be pleased to find the Staff and the Stone, just the way they were in the time his banishment?

When he arrives, what should I do but greet him, the Staff in my hand, masking the power of the Stone in me?

I can feel him.

**The Oracle**

The circle is closing. Up here the North wind blows as cold as ever.

We were brought here by Itchlarin.

We looked back as the portal to Freneskae closed and we said: Never again.

We served Itchlarin and his house. We guarded his lands and his children. We slayed the beasts that threatened those who worshipped him. We bred amongst our kind and with the children of the desert. We were admired and respected and we would never have had to live in fear again.

It looks like there will be more snowfall during the night. I hade better stoke the fire.

Then came the Empty Lord. He told us: come with me, leave Itchlarin, for he doesn't know your worth. My exiled kin, degraded refugees, warriors living in servitude, had already forgotten the pain and the fear and all they could remember was power and glory.

We had grown weary of Freneskae. Now we had grown weary of Itchlarin.

Not many feet away, an eave of snow breaks off the cliff top, falling down the sheer side of the mountain. There is no sound as it hits the ground.

With us the Zarosian Empire rose and flourished. From Paddewa to Kharlyll we, the Chosen People of Zaros, were invincible even to Armadyl and his followers.

By the throne of our lord stood Zamorak, his General and advisor, the brightest and strongest of my family.

By the time Viggora the human laid a long, rag-covered bundle in his hands, he had grown weary of Zaros.

Time passed.

Later on, It woke up. It told us: Let this happen again, and I will destroy this world.

By then Zaros was long gone. Then they were all, Saradomin, Zamorak, Armadyl, even Serene. It was a while ago. Now the banished are coming back. The ones who stayed are gathering.

The first flakes are already falling, heavy and soft and deadly. I should be getting in.

I hope Guthix won't grow weary of us.

4


End file.
